


Coup D’ecœur

by priuchi



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Betrayal, Cheating, F/M, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2018-04-26 19:59:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5018398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/priuchi/pseuds/priuchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Almost half a year after the two are bound by marriage, Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye come face to face with the most difficult struggle they have come across yet: a failing relationship. As Roy continues to battle the grief caused by the loss of his best friend he will risk losing Riza too. And Riza is forced to find out if her heart is capable of forgiveness even in times of deep betrayal. They've won against some of the worst enemies they could have imagined- but can they hold their own against the most human of struggles?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Moments

The gold buttons on Roy’s uniform had been polished so they glimmered, reflecting the light of the candles that lined the church and covered the altar. He had considered slicking his hair back, but he remembered standing in front of his mirror after Mae’s funeral... he couldn’t bring himself to look like that again. Riza’s hair was done up in big, bouncy curls. Her wedding dress was the product of Rebecca and Winry’s influence at the bridal appointment. It was a trumpet dress, hugging her upper body and then flaring out at the knees. The back trailed out behind her, dragging across the floor. The detailed lacing was heavy at the top, then dwindled down to just a few designs at the bottom. She felt like the diamond bracelet was too much, and she was worried the silver would clash with the gold Roy was wearing, but Chris had insisted on her having it, so she wore it anyway.

It was a small church. The couple could have easily filled the pews with officers upon officers. But they had both wanted to keep things personal. Still, many uniforms were present. Denny and Heymans were both dressed in full, Maria seated between them in a pale blue dress. Alex and Olivia were both in uniform as well, sitting on opposite sides of the church. The Elric’s came too- Edward put on an act of being uninterested while Winry and Alphonse were happy to attend. Ling Yao was invited, perhaps more so as a political gesture than anything else, but he had politely declined and cited that he was simply too busy to travel to Amestris at the time. But he had sent a rather lavish cookware set as a wedding gift.

There was no one to walk Riza down the aisle, so Riza and Roy walked together, arm in arm. Rebecca was waiting at the end to take the bridal boutique. Jean patted Roy’s back, and they exchanged a look of solace. It had been hard for Roy to ask anyone to be his best man, and although Jean had been honored, he knew he was nothing compared to who should have been standing there with Roy that day. The service was simple, the vows were short but sweet, and the rings were just simple, gold bands. Tears were shed, naturally, and there was a crying guest that stood out to Roy as he turned to retreat down the aisle with his new wife. There in the front row, holding a tissue to her eye, was Gracia Hughes.

Five months flew by. Snow was starting to fall over Central City. Roy stepped out of Central Command, breathing in the cold air and rubbing his right hand were it had begun to cramp from holding a pen all day. It was amazing how quickly time had marched on. A year and half ago he would have been back in Eastern City, listening to Mae’s voice over the telephone… The hand on his shoulder pulled the general out of his thoughts. He looked beside him, his dark eyes meeting the brown eyes of Riza. 

“You seemed lost in thought there, Roy.” She spoke softly, tone airing on concern. It wasn’t unusual for Roy to space out, but it had been becoming more and more frequent. 

“I was just, thinking about last year. So much happened, and so much has happened since then.” He slipped an arm around her shoulders as he continued to talk and as they started down the sidewalk. “I mean, just this time last year the coup was just picking up… since then Fullmetal and Winry got married, you and I got married, Jean’s been through seven girls…” 

“Eight,” Riza corrected. “Eight girls.” 

“You’re going to count the one that only lasted a day? Alright fine, eight girls. Anyway… everything moved so fast. It still feels like yesterday that we were at Mae’s…” he trailed off, looking down. The pair walked in silence for a few minutes before Riza spoke up again. 

“I was thinking I would make lamb and barley soup tonight, since it’s so cold. We would have to stop at the store though…” 

“Can we get bread to go with it?” Roy peered at her, looking very serious. He was older than her, and ranked higher, and yet his maturity levels were questionable at best. The blond tried her best to stifle a laugh has she replied. 

“Yes Roy, we’ll get bread to go with it.” 

“Then soup it is!” Roy pulled her toward the store, smiling. Riza smiled too. 

In that moment, it felt like the whole world smiled around them. Of course no couple could be perfect, no couple could be without flaws. But, in that moment, Riza believed that they, General Mustang and Major General Hawkeye, were pretty damn close. In that moment, Riza was blind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roy doesn't have a mustache in this. 
> 
> Here's the dress I imagined Riza wearing, by the way: http://www.athelhampton.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/20sdress.jpg


	2. Junction

After dinner, Roy had gone back to work. Riza had scolded him for working too much, but she knew there was nothing she could say that would change his mind. Shortly after he had left, Black Hayate had pawed at her, leash in mouth. So the Major General had bundled herself up, locked up the house, and started down the street. Hayate trotted along, leaving paw prints in the fresh snow beside Riza’s boot prints. The air was crisp and the snowflakes big, and Riza was pleased that this year she could properly enjoy the season without all the madness of a coup d'etat. As she passed all of the store fronts she thought about how nice it would be to come home to warm fire in the fireplace… she decided she would start one when she got back so Roy could come home to that. And then Hayate stopped. Riza stopped too. They had come to a halt where the road came to a 3-way junction, Hayate staring across to the right corner of the T. 

There, under the yellow light of the streetlamp, stood Roy. But not just Roy, the General wasn’t alone. The figure of the women he was with seemed familiar to Riza, but she was standing with her back to the light and the shadows that drew across her face made her hard to recognize. The women and Roy both seemed relaxed, open. Roy had one hand in his pocket, one hanging loosely at his side. The women’s hands were clasped in front of her in a modest nature, but she stood close to Roy, her head tilted up slightly while his was tilted slightly down. 

Something about their positioning tugged at Riza’s heart in a way that made her put a hand to her chest. She wanted to just keep walking, or look away, or anything besides watch her husband. She didn’t want to mistrust him, there had never been a reason to doubt his loyalty. But something deeper inside of her wouldn’t let her look away. Something inside of her knew what she did not, could not, believe. It wasn’t until Roy lifted his hand to move some of the women’s honey colored hair back under her peach cloche hat that Riza realized who it was. 

It was Gracia Hughes. Gracia Hughes, the widowed wife of the man who so often occupied Roy’s thoughts, and dreams, and nightmares. For a moment, while Riza watched Roy’s gentle movements, she held onto some glimmer of hope that perhaps her husband had merely ran into Gracia on his way home. Perhaps he was simply being a dedicated friend to Maes, making sure everything was going okay for the wife of a dead man. 

Roy leaned in close to Gracia and kissed her. Her arms wrapped around him, his arms wrapped around her. The glimmer of hope snapped like a bone, wracking Riza’s soul like a shell had been dropped over her very existence. By the time the pair had pulled away from each other, Riza had retreated from the scene, like she had never been there at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't think Roy would do something like that... Don't give up on this piece. You'll miss the explanation. 
> 
> See you in a few days for the next chapter!


	3. Post-Factum

It was the impulse of guilt that had caused Mustang to buy the flowers on his way home. Purple hyacinths in a jar with a piece of twine wrapped around the jar’s neck. It wasn’t completely unusual for him to come home from a long work night bearing gifts, he was sure Riza would think nothing of it. The feeling of Gracia’s lips against his own lingered, and the beating of his heart became almost deafening. When they kissed- when he kissed her… the bliss had blinded him for a moment. But after the pleasure had melted from his body he was left feeling empty. Worse off, he felt filthy. The uncleanness stayed with him the whole walk home.

The house was cold when Roy returned. No fire burned in the fireplace. There was a light on in the kitchen, the one that stayed on at night. All the others were out. He frowned as he pulled his coat off and hung it on the coatrack by the door. Riza usually was still downstairs when he came home late. He shrugged it off as being due to the cold weather. She probably just went to read in bed where it was warmer. He pulled his shoes off and left them by the doormat before climbing the stairs to the second story of their small townhouse. 

Hawkeye was indeed reading in bed. Her bedside lamp on was, drawing dark shadows across the far side of the room. She didn’t take her eyes from the page of her book when Roy entered, but she did stop reading to glance at the flowers when he set them down on her nightstand. 

“What are those for?” Roy caught the honeyed tone to her voice. Could she have known he wasn’t working late? Had she called his office? No, he had been prepared for that. He wrote it off, telling himself he was hearing tones that weren’t there. He was paranoid, of course he would read too much into anything she said. 

“Nothing in particular. They just looked lovely, and they reminded me of you.” Riza eyed the flowers. Purple hyacinths? She made a note to herself to find out the meaning of them. Roy was careful and calculating… but his love for codes was a weakness. 

“Ah. Thank you, Roy.” 

“Anytime…” Roy walked across the room and opened his wardrobe, finding his pajamas and disappearing into the bathroom with them. The normality of the way he was carrying himself made Riza feel sick. How could a married man kiss another woman and then come home to his wife as casually as always? It wasn’t fair that he could keep living while she was cracking under the weight of betrayal. 

As much as she wanted to see his heart be crushed like her own was, she couldn’t find the words, or the strength, to tell him she knew. When he climbed into bed and leaned over to kiss the side of her head, she didn’t stop him. And she didn’t stop him from drawing his arms around her when they laid down to sleep. But when she felt her husband’s breathing settle and his body relax, she couldn’t stop her eyes from watering. 

Roy dreamed of fire and death, and of old friends returning only to turn against him for his actions. Riza dreamed of widows, and of Roy slipping away into the darkness with his back to her. Gracia Hughes’ slept blocks away, with dreams of her crying daughter, military uniforms, and the empty place at the dinner table. A dusting of snow collected on the roofs as the city slept.


	4. Morning Routine

The morning light made its way through the curtain sheers, leaving pillars of light across the pale cream comforter that rested over Roy and Riza’s forms. The General opened his eyes, laying still as he listened to the sounds of the cars that drove buy every few minutes and Riza’s steady breathing. The light grew brighter as the sun raised higher, and the noise outside grew too, as people began to make their ways out into the cold morning. Roy sat up, stretching and then rising with the city.

The warm water made his whole body tingle when he stepped into the heated shower. He had hoped a shower would wash away the dirtiness that still lingered in his mind, but as the water ran over him he thought of his poor wife, still sleeping peaceful, unaware that the man she trusted to dearly was nothing more than a liar. He thought of Gracia, no doubt just getting up from her own bed. Her empty bed. She would make breakfast for Elicia and herself, and the unused coffee cup on the counter would break her down to tears once again. 

He thought of Maes. Roy put a hand along the wall of the shower to steady himself. How could he have touched the wife of a friend? Mustang had tried to remind himself that Gracia wasn’t a wife. Her husband was gone. His own best friend, was gone. Would Hughes have wanted someone to hold his spouse’s hand? Would he have wanted someone else to lay beside her, someone else to raise his daughter? 

Perhaps. But he wouldn’t want his friend to betray his own family in order to do so. Roy knew that well enough. So why? Why had he put it upon himself to be there when she needed him? The answer was in the question. He had put it upon himself, because she needed him. It was that damn hero complex that had drove him, and he hated it. 

Roy spent extra time combing his hair and getting his uniform on once he was out of the shower. He didn’t feel any cleaner. Riza was no longer sleeping in bed when he finally emerged from the bathroom so he made his way downstairs, passing the wedding photo that hung in the stairwell alongside other happy memories. He paused to stare at his own smiling face. What he would give to go back and change things. What things did he want to change? He wasn’t quite sure. 

  
  


The kitchen was warm and buzzing with lights and sounds and smells. Sausages popped on the stove and the toaster hummed while the bread toasted. Riza was getting the eggs out of the refrigerator when Mustang stepped in, a smile on his face. 

“Good morning my dear!” He beamed with his usual morning energy. It made Hawkeye feel nauseous. But she smiled, matching Roy’s vigor. 

“Good morning. I hope you’re hungry.” She moved to the stove to give herself an excuse to have her back to him. He took his place at the kitchen table, watching Riza as she cooked the eggs. One scrambled for herself and two over easy for Roy. She wasn’t dressed for work yet so she was still in her oversized button up top and long fleece pants, and her hair cascaded down her back in soft bunches. 

“The Military Ball is coming up.” Roy prompted after gazing at Riza’s back for a few minutes. 

“So it is.” She replied nonchalantly, putting eggs on plates and adding the toast and sausage links after. 

“Are you going to wear your uniform, or should we go dress shopping?” 

“I have plenty of dresses already, don’t I?” 

“You wouldn’t like something new to wear this year?” Riza brought the plates over and sat down. Was it guilt that was making Roy offer her a new dress? If so, he could rot in it. 

“I’ll wear the navy blue one. It goes well with your uniform, don’t you think?” 

“Yes, it does… But maybe you’d like some gold jewelry to match. What about that?” 

“It’s fine, Roy.” No amount of gifts can make up for this. “I have things I can wear. And if I really want something new, I’ll buy it myself.” 

They ate in silence.


	5. Rot in It

While Riza had gotten ready for work Roy had washed all the dishes and cleaned up the table. The tension of breakfast melted back into the usual lively demeanor of the couple as they bundled up before braving the cold morning. The General linked his arm around his wife’s, and she put on a smile. If Mustang wanted to put up a façade, she would play long. For as much as she wanted to see Roy’s face when his clever little mask was ripped off, she wanted him to sauté in his guilt first. She wanted to see if he would break before she forced him too. A test of his character? Perhaps. 

General Mustang was so immersed in work come lunch time that Major General Hawkeye went out alone. Usually eating out by herself didn’t bother her at all, as Roy was often too busy to go out with her. But today the small café down the street from Command made her feel small. Small and alone. The lights strung up in preparation for the upcoming holidays and the happy conversations around the woman made her want to just sink out of the wooden chair and through the planks on the floor. There seemed to be more couples around than usual… or rather she was just noticing them more now that her own kingdom was starting to crack. 

She had a cup of hot tea with her meal to try and get some sort of sensation in her body and then headed back out into the cold. The sunlight that reflected off the snow covered roofs gave the illusion of warmth where there was none. But the light also made the jewelry store’s window display twinkle, and the gold necklaces and bracelets caught Riza’s eye as she past. She remembered what she had said to Roy at the breakfast table and, on a whim, pushed open the shop’s heavy green door and entered. 

Riza was the only one in the store, so the jeweler immediately turned his attention to her. 

“Hello there young lady!” He called from his position behind the counter. “Looking for something in particular? You’re from the military, the ball is soon right? Is that what bring you here?” 

“Well…” she was going to say no, that she was just there to look. But again she remembered what she had said. And if I really want something new, I’ll buy it myself. It couldn’t hurt to play. “Yes, actually. I need something gold.”  
  


It was beautiful. A simple, sender gold chain with a small gold and diamond pendant on it. But at 47000 Cens was it justifiable? All in the name of making Roy squirm a little? She just wasn’t sure. 

“You know,” the jeweler spoke as he watched her stare at the necklace in his hand, “I’ll give you a discount, since you were part of the coup. Mustang’s gang, you people did amazing things.” 

“Oh- thank you but I don’t think…” The bell hanging over the door chimed. “Why don’t you put it away and I’ll think about it while you handle your other customer.” 

The man obliged, putting the necklace back in its place and going to meet the new patron. Riza gazed at the necklace, half listening as the jeweler asked if he could help the “madam” with anything. The voice that gave the reply caused Riza to turn her head a little. 

“Thank you… I’m looking for a nice pair of cufflinks. Gold.” Gracia Hughes had such a sugary tone to anything she said. Now, to Riza, that sugar sounded artificial. 

“They wouldn’t perhaps be for a military man, would they?” The jeweler mused, leading Gracia to the proper case. Riza made sure to keep out her sight line. 

“They are, yes.” 

She was buying the damn things for Roy, wasn’t she? Again, Hawkeye felt sick. But that had decided it. While Gracia was inspecting the cufflinks, Riza waved the man back over and bought her necklace. Full price. Either the widow didn’t recognize her voice, or didn’t want to say hello to the wife of her secret lover, because she kept her back turned as Riza left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here ends the pre-written chapters... I don't even have a draft of six yet! But don't worry, you can still expect an update on Monday if not before. 
> 
> Have a good weekend!


	6. The General and the Widow (Part One)

Riza watched as Roy buttoned his black coat shut over his civilian clothes. He checked his pocket to make sure his ignition gloves where there, just in case. Of course, he no longer had to rely on a circle to perform his alchemy… but he preferred to snap out flames rather than do all of that clapping. The snapping was more his style. Showier. 

“You’re sure you don’t mind me leaving you alone for dinner?” He asked, peering over at his wife. 

“No, Roy. You go have fun with your friends. Tell Jean I said hello.” If you really are meeting up with the guys, the blonde added to herself. She couldn’t trust him anymore. 

“I sure will.” Lies. Roy smiled through his self-judgment. You tell her so many lies now. 

They hugged before the general stepped out into the sharp air of the evening. The street lights were just coming on, but they city was still alive with the bustling of busy and active lives. Roy walked briskly, hands in his pockets. As he neared the bar he considered the possibility of actually going in, blowing of his former plans and doing what he told his wife he had gone out to do. But he kept walking. Upsetting Gracia was something he wouldn’t do. Couldn’t, do. He said he would come, and he would keep that promise.   
  


By the time he had made it to the building Gracia lived in the wind had picked up. How she had managed to keep living in the apartment she had shared with her husband Roy didn’t know. He knew that if something had happened to Riza he wouldn’t be able to stay in the space they shared. But Gracia lived only in the past. He knew that all too well. The General climbed the silent stairwell to her floor, staring at the door for a moment before knocking gently against the wood. Memories of years past flooded him. Maes had always welcomed him with open arms, inviting him over for dinner or card games or whatever damn party the man was throwing, whenever Roy found time to make it to Central on a non-business trip… it wasn’t fair. Roy quietly cursed himself, for the ten-thousandth time since Hughes had died, for not appreciating the idiot more when he was around. The widowed Gracia opened the door, smiling warmly. The General smiled back just as warm. She ushered him in, taking his coat and hanging it on the coat rack after he had it off. It was the fourth coat on the rack… it hung over a similar black coat. Maes’ coat. It wasn’t the only trace of him that lingered around the home. Roy assumed poor Mrs. Hughes couldn’t stomach the thought of removing what was left of her beloved husband. His unfinished book still sat on the bedside table, his coffee mug was still on the counter, and his slippers still waited for him in the bathroom. 

“I hope you don’t mind but…” Gracia was cut off by her daughter appearing around the corner and running over, grabbing Gracia’s hand and peering up at Roy. 

“But you couldn’t find someone to watch her? No, I don’t mind at all.” He smiled down at the girl, meeting her wide eyes. “Hello Elicia, do you remember me?” Elicia thought for a moment, then gave a small nod. 

“You were friends with daddy, right mister?” 

“That’s right! I bet you don’t remember my name, but it’s Roy.” He extended a hand to her, and Gracia smiled as the little girl slowly let go of her hand to take Roy’s, who shook hands with her gently. Elicia had always looked more like her mother than her father, something Roy found himself thankful for now. She didn’t seem to want to let go his hand, so he let her keep a hold on it as they followed her mother into the kitchen so she could finish making dinner. 

The warmth and brightness of the room made Roy forget to be guilty. He helped Elicia up into her chair, then she pointed at the chair across from her. 

“That’s where you can sit. Daddy would want you to sit there, since he can’t.” Roy suppressed his grief and thanked her, sitting down in the seat. Gracia kept her back turned to them as she cut carrots, but Roy could tell by the movement of her shoulders that she was silently crying, just a bit. Mustang felt a knife in his stomach, just like the one he felt three weeks ago when he had gone to visit Hughes’ grave. Back when this had started. Back when he had let his sympathy do something completely, terribly stupid. But now, he didn’t regret it. He couldn’t possibly. In the context of his marriage, he wasn’t doing the right thing. Not at all. But in the context of Gracia… in the hope of seeing her regain the sparkling eyes she had before that ghastly day… this was right. At night while he lay with Riza in the dark he had questioned if it was worth all that risk. Now, in the light of the Hughes’ kitchen, with Gracia wiping away tears to turn and put on a smile for Elicia when she asked if she could help, there was nothing left to question. 

He would risk it. He could lose Riza’s trust. He could lose his marriage. But he had the chance to make the wife of his best friend feel something other than pain. Maybe Riza would understand, if she ever found out. If he explained why, and if he made sure to let her know that he never loved her any less, or Gracia any more. 

Was that even true anymore? General Mustang wasn’t sure. Frankly, he didn’t want to know. He just wanted to believe it was. He put his focus back on Gracia and Elicia, getting up to help the two with dinner. Gracia deserved to feel like she had someone to comfort her. Elicia deserved to feel like there was life in her house again. They both deserved to be two parts of a whole family, instead of two thirds of a broken one.


	7. The General and the Widow (Part Two)

While Gracia put Elicia to bed, Roy investigated the living room a little. Family photos, photos of Gracia, photos of Elicia… they remained on the walls where Maes had hung them. Roy noted that there didn’t seem to be any recent ones, like the photos had stopped as soon as Maes was gone. It made sense, but it felt wrong. He sat down and stared at the photo on the tablet beside the couch. Maes had his arms wrapped around his wife and daughter, the three of them were all smiling so brightly, not a care in the world. Gracia returned, sitting down beside him. She left a modest space between their bodies.

“Thank you for coming tonight Roy. I really appreciate it. Especially after…” 

“Don’t mention it. And, forget about that. It was my choice.” The feeling of her lips on his came back as he looked at her. They had agreed it was a mistake. He was married, after all. Subconsciously, he ran his thumb over his ring. Dinner was nothing more than a meal between friends. 

“I hope I didn’t overstep but, I, got you something. To thank you.” Mustang turned his head toward her, slight shock showing on his face. 

“Gracia you don’t need to do anything to thank me.” But she only shook her head and reached into her pocket, pulling out a black jewelry box. He took it from her tender hands, despite how much he wanted to refuse any sort of gifts from the poor woman. He gazed at the top of the box for a moment before opening it. Polished, gold cufflinks stared back at him. R.M. was engraved into each of them, written in big, fancy script lettering. “Gracia… Thank you.” 

“Do you like them?” She sounded so worried. He looked at her again, with soft expression to add reassurance. 

“I do. They’re perfect. You didn’t have to, but thank you.”  
  


She made decaf coffee and the time slipped away as they sat together on the couch and talked. The black box sat on the table beside Roy’s cup, and every time his eyes drifted to it he could think only of the ball, and how Gracia would attend alone again this year. She hadn’t missed a single one since her husband’s death… probably because getting out of the house and being in a room full of people made her feel a little better, even if only for one night. 

Whenever a silence fell over the pair, Roy found himself searching his mind for a new topic. Gracia did the same apparently, because if he couldn’t think of something she would pick up the slack. For the first time all night, his mind wandered to Riza. When they were together, it was never a problem to just sit together and not talk. The silence was comfortable with her, not heavy like it was with Gracia. The widow knew that he didn’t love her, right? Surely, she knew that this was nothing more than something to give her a little glimmer of companionship and nothing more. 

But that didn’t change the fact that they had kissed. A General and a window, illumined by a street lamp, kissing in the snow. Anyone who had seen their silhouettes in the yellow light would have assumed they were just two young lovers, reluctant to part ways after a date. That wasn’t at all what it was… not at all. When his cup was empty he stood, thanking Gracia for the dinner, and once more for the cufflinks. He slipped the box into his coat pocket once he had retrieved it from the coat-rack and pulled it on. She thanked him for the company. There was a moment of tension in which neither person knew what to do, and the tension stayed as Roy hugged the woman goodbye. For a moment, when they pulled away, Roy thought for sure he was going to kiss her again. 

This time he didn’t. This time, she kissed him. 

The feeling of her lips stayed with him as he walked home, just like the time before. And just like the time before, the downstairs lights where off when he returned. Riza was sleeping peacefully, so Mustang quietly changed into pajamas and climbed into the bed beside his wife. Flames and red eyes greeted him in his nightmares. And Riza was there, and she was crying. She was crying, not just in her husband’s dreams but in the bed they shared. She smelled the potpourri the Hughes’ had always had sitting on their coffee table instead of the smoke and booze of a bar. She had been right not to trust his word.


	8. Truth Be Told

The warmth of the cafe made Riza’s cheeks burn as she came in from the cold winter morning. It was her day off, and she had been looking forward to a girls day with Rebecca… but now she felt heavy. Not sad, she had been sad last night when Roy had come to bed, she just felt heavy. And a little hazy, like everything was a dream. Unfortunately, it was not.

Rebecca was there already, so Riza made her way over to the corner table her friend had claimed. Colonel Catalina looked as good as always, her deep brown hair cascading down past her shoulders in waves, a shiny diamond bracelet on her right wrist. She smiled brightly when Hawkeye sat down. 

“I already ordered you a coffee, Riza.” The brunette started. 

“Ah, thank you…” Riza smiled. She hoped it wouldn’t look as fake as it felt. “I like your bracelet.” 

“Oh thank you.” Rebecca smiled fondly, touching it lightly as she spoke. “My boyfriend bought it for me… You’ll never guess who I’m dating. I wanted to wait to tell you in person.” The blonde chuckled and leaned back. 

“Oh do tell.” 

“Jean. Jean Havoc.” 

“Havoc?” 

“Yeah, it’s been three weeks.” 

“Three weeks and he’s bought you a diamond bracelet?” Typical Havoc, Riza thought. She really needed this, it was making her feel a little better. Distractions were certainly the key to staying strong. 

“And I see you have a nice necklace there, Riza. Did your man buy you that?” Riza’s mood fell at the thought of her necklace. She shouldn’t have worn it. Rebecca’s smile quickly faded. “What’s the matter?” The question startled Riza. Did she really look so obviously upset? 

She spilled it all. The night she saw her husband kiss Gracia Hughes, the cufflinks, and Roy’s most recent lie about meeting the guys. She held back her tears, not wanting to cry in front of Rebecca, or rather, a whole cafe. Once the coffee had come, it helped to sip it. She didn’t care that it burned her tongue… it reminded her that this was real. Rebecca listened to her, not interrupting once. But her eyes became colder as the story went on. Every ounce of respect the Colonel had possessed for General Mustang been burned away. 

“And he doesn’t know that you know?” Rebecca asked once her friend had finished. 

“No I… I haven’t said anything.” 

“You have to tell him, Riza! You can’t just let him get away with it!” 

“I know. I know Rebecca but I-... How do I..?” Riza trailed off, taking another drink of her coffee and looking down at the table. 

“You just have to call him out. You have to tell him that you know he’s been seeing someone else. Things won’t get better if you just ignore them.” Riza nodded, sighing softly. Some of her heaviness had lifted. It felt good to have someone else know what she knew about her husband. But the pain of being cheated on, by Roy no less, remained. And it would remain with her throughout the day, even as she put on a mask of happiness as her and Rebecca spent the day together.   
  


The sun was long gone behind the horizon when Riza quietly entered the townhouse. Roy was in the living room, reading and relaxing. Hawkeye was honestly a little surprised to see him home. She took off her coat and scarf, hanging them up before going into the living room to join her husband. He looked up at her, smiling, when she came near. 

“Hello there, lovely lady. How was your day with the Colonel?” 

“Good.” She walked over to her chair, slowly sitting down. “Did you know about her and Havoc?” 

“I just found out today, actually. I thought since you were with your best friend, I’d go out with mine. What do you think, think they’ll actually stay together for longer than a few weeks?” 

His wife didn’t reply. Instead she turned her head to watch the flames that licked the wood in the fireplace. Roy watched her for a second, then looked back down at his book, reading a few more lines before Riza pulled his attention away again. 

“Roy. There’s something I want to tell you.” She said, still staring at the fire. Roy looked up at her, slowly closing the book. 

“What’s that?” 

“I know. I know about you and Gracia.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhangers suck don't they?


	9. Dying Fire

Silence. Painful, awful, silence. Roy’s chest felt heavy, like a weight was resting directly on top of his sternum. He didn’t breath. He was still aside from his dark eyes, which moved away from Riza and to the fire. They both watched the flames dance in the thick silence of the room. Neither of them wanted to speak. There wasn’t much to be said, now that it was out in the open.

“What tipped you off?” Roy finally asked, voice quiet. He didn’t want to know, but some part of him needed to know. 

“I saw you with her on the street a few nights ago. I saw you kiss her.” 

“Ah…” 

There was another long moment of silence again as they both stared at the fire. It was getting low, and its warmth was fading. When a fire loses warmth you through a log on it to keep it going. But when a relationship loses warmth… what is there to do? This time it was Riza who broke the silence. 

“Roy… Why?” She didn’t want to know… but like Roy, a part of here needed to know. It craved the answers to why, or rather how, someone she had trusted so deeply could commit such an act of betrayal. 

“Why?” the man repeated, shifting his eyes away from the fire to look at Riza. She still wouldn’t turn her head to him. “I guess, I felt bad for her. She was so miserable and I… I just wanted to help. I never thought it would turn out like it did.” 

“So do you love her?” 

“No. I don’t.” Whether that was the truth or not… Roy wasn’t sure. He was still trying to make sense of his own feelings. Old feelings, that went back before he wore a ring. Feelings that involved more than just Riza and Gracia. Feelings he couldn’t speak of out loud yet. 

“Do you love me?” 

“Yes Riza, of course I love you.” That much he knew was true. Or at least, he wanted it to be true. His heart hurt when he thought about it too deeply. Surely, Riza was his soul mate. But even so… “It had nothing to do with whether or not I love you… nor whether I love Gracia.” 

Riza was silent again for a long while. The fire crackled, and the clock on the mantle ticked away. Cars drove by outside, drawing light across the living room through the sheer curtains as they passed, unaware of the tension between a husband and wife inside the pretty little townhouse with the golden salamander door knocker… a rather humorous gift to Roy from the team after he had become General. Usually, when they sat together in quiescence, it was calming. Stillness between them had never bothered Roy, and it had never bothered Riza. Until now. Now, the air felt empty and cold. There was nothing easy about their silence that night. When Riza finally spoke again, she was standing from her seat. 

“I’m, going to go to bed. Goodnight, Roy.” 

“Goodnight… Riza, I love you.” 

Riza didn’t offer a reply as she left the room and headed up the stairs. Roy remained in his seat, again turning his attention to the dying fire. The embers would glow long after the flames had gone… was that all his own relationship was now? Remnants of a fire once bright? The numbness of his body and mind reminded him of the night he spent alone after Hughes had been murdered. 

Maes Hughes. Riza Hawkeye. Could either of them forgive him for what he had done? The thought of having betrayed them both started crushing the General. How could have done something so… awful. _Because you **are** awful, Roy._ He told himself, looking at his hands. Killer hands. _You’ve always been this way._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another short one but I didn't want to keep you waiting anymore. 
> 
> Things are going start getting a little crazy from this point on so hold on to your computers or phones or tablets or what ever you read your fanfics on.


	10. Half Past Three

Roy jolted awake, bolting upright in bed. A gentle darkness met him, the only light was the faint glow from the gas street lamps that drifted up from street below. The only sound in the room was from the clock, ticking away on the bedside table. A reminder that time was moving on. Moving on without her. The bed felt empty and cold without her. The room felt that way. The whole _damn house_ felt that way. 

It had only been two days. 

After an hour of trying to fall asleep again, Mustang surrendered to his insomnia and heaved himself out of bed and down the stairs. The silence of the downstairs hurt even more than the empty bed. How many mornings had he come downstairs to Riza sitting in the living room with the radio on, her coffee cup clinking softly when she set it down to greet him? More than he could count. Or what about the days when he would make breakfast for them both as the water ran upstairs? And the times when she would come down first to make a big breakfast before an important day at work… there were days off when they had both slept in and made a late breakfast together, smiling and laughing… the General found himself slipping a coat over his pajamas and stepping out into the chilly air. 

There was hardly another soul out as he made his way down the street. It crossed his mind that he’d be flowerless for the first time, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. No one in their right minds would be selling flowers at half past three in the morning. He’d be forgiven for the empty hands, he was sure. But the guilty feeling in the pit of stomach told him he wouldn’t be forgiven for the rest. The number of unspoken promises he had broken in just a single night made him dizzy for what he was sure had to be the hundredth time since the mess had started. 

The gray rounded stones only made him feel worse. They stood in straight long lines, not unlike the lines the people buried beneath them stood attention in, before they had fallen from the world of the living. Each grave marked a person who had given their all, had given their life. Roy felt like a disgrace among them. They had died for their country- and he had kissed one of their widows while his own wife had watched. 

Seeing Hughes’ name engraved into one of the many graves made his heart lurch. No amount of time could make the pain go away. Envy- the monster who had killed him, was long dead. It didn’t matter. For every day Envy was gone, Maes was gone longer. Nothing would ever change that. So Roy would forever feel a sickening sadness as he stepping in front of his best friends grave, and now that sadness was amplified by the General’s own sins and betrayal. 

Usually, on the routine of visiting Maes, Roy knew exactly what to say. He would tell Hughes about his week. How beautiful Riza looked when she woke up, how Havoc had given him the wrong papers for a meeting, and how Armstrong had broken the door again. Then he would move on to the Elrics, what the latest letter from Edward had said and how big the kids were getting… which would lead into how big Elicia was now, and how good Gracia was getting along. Gracia Hughes. The name buzzed through Roy’s head as he stared at the deep lines spelling his friend’s name. That name, and "I’m sorry", were the only things that his brain could remember at the moment. But they were stuck there, in his thoughts. His lips trembled, but wouldn’t open. He was speechless. Speechless in front of someone who wasn't even there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks it's been a while! I was stuck on what path to take with this after the last chapter was said and done, but I got the inspiration I needed to forge ahead now, I hope you enjoy where this goes! (also I apologize for an mistakes I missed, I tried to fix it up some but it's 1am and I just want to get this up haha)


	11. Answered Questions

Two days. Or was it three now? Time didn’t really seem to go by anymore. Nothing had felt real. Riza paced the wooden floor of her room at the inn she had checked into it. It wasn’t the nicest inn in Central, but it was far from the heart of the city. She didn’t want to risk seeing anyone who would ask questions… as far as the general public was concerned, her and the General were a still happy couple. It stung- but things needed to be kept quiet until her and Roy had figured things out. She knew that. 

So she paced the floor, thinking everything and thinking nothing. She had gotten tired of lying in bed, staring at the plaster ceiling with the three cracks in the corner. More so, she had gotten tired of thinking about Roy. But she couldn’t shake the image of his face when he had watched her pack a bag. The blankness, the lack of any emotions… he hadn’t even put up a fight. Riza had expected her husband to try and stop her, to try and hold her and kiss her, and to apologize again. He hadn’t. He hadn’t said a word, aside from the solemn goodbye he had forced out as she put her bag in the car. It didn’t seem like him. 

Maybe he had needed time away just as much as she did. Riza couldn’t help but wonder where he was at the moment. It was a little past three, he was probably sleeping. In their- or rather his bed? Or was he with her… Hawkeye grabbed the coat that was laying over the back of the ugly floral print chair by the door. If she was going to pace around, she might as well do it outside and get some fresh air.

Without a destination in mind, Riza began to make her way down the dark streets. It felt less like walking and more like floating as her thoughts became dizzying. Roy had said he didn’t love Gracia. He had meant it. Hadn’t he? He wasn’t the kind of guy to… But he was, wasn’t he? He had always been kind of a womanizer. But Gracia Hughes? 

There were too many questions. She needed to talk to him. Whatever he had to say, even if it was something from her worst fears, she needed to know. She couldn’t move on until she knew. And although the feelings started calmed, her anger began to boil as she walked. Something in her was breaking again, snapping into little pieces. 

She almost didn’t see him as she passed by. 

Almost. 

Riza had to do a double take. She would know that figure, in his big black coat, anywhere. Something about him standing there, among the markers of fallen soldiers, made him look even more familiar. He liked to talk to Hughes alone, so she had grown accustomed to watching him from afar. But what was he doing there in the middle of the night? Apologizing? Dropping hollow words on a man who couldn’t hear him? She took a deep breath, and made her way through the rows of graves. 

Anger flowed to and fro inside of her as she approached. She wanted to hit him, but she also wanted to hold him. She wanted to scream, and yell… but she wanted to talk, and whisper. And tell him that maybe, _maybe_ it would be okay. Yet when she reached him, stopping at his side, she did nothing. He didn’t move or speak, and neither did she. Together they stared at the name on the gray stone before them. 

Minutes passed before anyone spoke. Roy’s voice came first, quiet. Riza wasn’t sure he had even said anything at first, and it took her a moment to muster a reply. 

“What did you say?” She asked, still not looking at him. He wasn’t looking at her. 

“I loved him. I do love him. That’s, what I said.” 

“You don’t need to tell me that. I know you love him.”

“No, Riza…” He turned, facing her. He took her hand in his and squeezed it. She could feel him trembling. Not shaking from the cold air, but trembling out of fear and sadness. “I loved him. I never told him. I never told anyone.” 

She finally looked at him. There it was. The answer. The reason behind his actions. 

It wasn’t what she had expected.


	12. Catalyst Truths

_Roy always felt a weight pressing down on his heart whenever Maes brought that photo out._

_“We’re going to get married when I get home!” Maes would exclaim, showing whatever poor unsuspecting soul he had just met. Soldiers, Doctors, Civilians. It didn’t matter. He had to tell everyone he saw. And it made Roy feel like he was going to be sick._

_The actual wedding wasn’t any better. Roy swallowed his jealousy, agreeing to be best man. Agreeing to give a speech. He put on a smile. Forced himself to be happy for the bride and groom. Riza was his only comfort that day. Someone to rest his eyes on when he found himself staring at Hughes. Someone to talk to while the happy couple danced and laughed and…_

_And…_

_And he couldn’t help but wish that was him. Dancing and laughing._

\---

She still hadn’t said anything. Waves of shame and regret flowed over the General as he stood there, eyes never moving from the grave marker at his feet. His wife shifted her weight, moving for the first time in minutes, and she gently took his hand in hers.

“I should have told you. Instead I gave you a ring.” He said softly when he couldn’t stand the silence any longer. 

“Isn’t that just like you, Roy?” She returned his softness, a sadness in her voice. “Masking yourself. Creating a persona.” He could have died right then and there. If he didn’t know any better he would have begged God to smite him down where he stood. But God would have just laughed if he’d asked for that. Riza gripped his hand for a moment before letting him go, kneeling to rearrange the flowers Roy had brought for Hughes’. “Telling him wouldn’t have changed anything, you know.” She spoke again, pulling Mustang from his thoughts once more. 

“I know.”

“He still would have married Gracia. He still would have… left us. And you still would have made yourself into something you aren’t.” 

“I don’t think that last part is accurate.” Hawkeye’s hands stopped working, an unbalanced rose tipping out of the vase. “I don’t think I would have married you. I don’t think I would have married anyone.”

“Can I ask you something then?” 

“Ask away.”

“Do you love me?” He began to answer, a yes on his lips, but she cut him off. “Not just, love me. But really, truly, like a husband loves wife. Do you love me like that?” 

_No._ He whispered, no. Riza felt her world spinning. So many of her secret questions had been answered. How there was light in his eyes while he watched her read, but no light in them when they made love. The way he would rest his head against her shoulder but would do the same with his friends. The casualness of sharing cigarettes with Jean. He didn’t love her. He couldn’t love her. She could never be what he truly loved. And it wasn’t either of their faults. 

\---

Her room at the inn felt emptier than it had in past days. She sat down on the bed, staring at the floor. The anger was gone, all that was left was an overwhelming sadness. Could she love someone who would never be able to love her back? That was the trouble though. Because she did. She’d loved him for years, and she knew she’d loved him for years upon years to come.  
But that was beside the point. It didn’t matter that she loved him. What mattered was that he would, in the end, never be happy if they stayed together. She played with the gold band on her finger, trying to make sense of the thoughts her brain was throwing at her. _It would be unfair to let him stay with me, wouldn’t it? How will us splitting affect work?_

In the end she knew that she just wanted him to be as happy as he could be. Even if that meant breaking her own heart. 

And back at the townhouse Roy lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking that same thought about her. Thinking that he just wanted her to be happy. To be with someone who could give her happiness. Even if that person wasn’t him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And after 617 days, an update!


End file.
